


Scenes from a Decreasingly Professional Relationship

by cimorene



Series: Just Like Verse [4]
Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cimorene/pseuds/cimorene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jun stops unbuckling his watch to look up at Aiba, who is grinning at him brightly. "Cuddling isn't sex! You cuddled with Nino for fifteen minutes yesterday."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenes from a Decreasingly Professional Relationship

**Author's Note:**

> November 2009, January 2010. For Aeslis, a bit belated.

1.

"We can't get careless," Jun reminds him, voice prickly and morning-grumpy, but he's obviously talking to himself. Both his hands are full of coffee, but he's somehow divested Aiba of his hat and sunglasses and scarf and got him halfway out of his coat in the ten seconds since the door opened. Aiba's not sure exactly how he did it - he was fixated on Jun's coffee first, and his face second. Nobody has the right to look so... _radiant_ and pretty after so little sleep and running a mile before the sun's up, but that has never bothered Jun.

"Careless?" chirps Aiba. "You mean like the speed-undressing competition with your hands full of coffee?" He liberates the coffee.

"Unprofessional, I meant. That's mine," says Jun sharply, but Aiba has already taken a long drink. It scalds the roof of his mouth, but he pretends it's perfect, licking his lips and letting his eyes slip closed in bliss. Actually, it's still very good coffee. Trust Jun.

Jun drops his messenger bag into a chair, shrugs carefully out of his coat and smooths a wool Burberry scarf over the lapel, then turns back to Aiba and leans in close. They're still alone, of course, but the door could open at any minute. He's close enough to kiss, but Aiba just sways after him and steals another sip from the cup. Jun holds it steady for him, watching Aiba's face closely, looking right into his eyes, and doesn't scold him again when he takes the cup back.

Aiba sheds the rest of his outer garments right there where he's standing; he suddenly feels warm from the _inside._ "I'll give you unprofessional," he says, and drags Jun after him into the big bathroom with the lock on the outer door, pushes him up against the wall and sucks his cock until he stops watching what Aiba is doing, throws his head back on the wall, eyes squeezed shut, fists against the tiles to keep them out of Aiba's hair.

"Ma-_sa_-ki..." says Jun, and it's more of a whimper.

Aiba pets his hipbone - Jun's hips are narrow and sharp, white and silky - and does that thing with his tongue. Jun comes with a silly-sounding gurgle that means he's swallowed his tongue to keep from making noise. Aiba hums a little to himself, satisfied, and swallows as well. He doesn't spill a drop: he's getting good at this.

"How long?" he asks, standing up.

"Uh?" says Jun, opening one eye, then the other, with a look of annoyance.

Aiba zips him up, kisses the tip of his nose. "Never mind." He pushes Jun's sleeve back himself and looks at his watch. "Yesss! Five minutes! Nobody else is even here yet." Aiba was _very_ early today. It's amazing what sleeping alone does for his ability to get out of bed, if he knows Jun is where he's going.

Jun just sighs.

And, sure, they start filming in a few hours, but coming out of this bathroom together doesn't even look weird. Aiba wouldn't do it if there was a chance of getting caught. He is never unprofessional.

[§ § §]

2.

Leader's birthday cake is so large that it's impossible to finish. Even though Leader is doing his best to eat as much as possible, which is formidable, and even though are four more of them there, the cake is no more than three quarters finished.

"Don't worry, Oh-chan, we'll finish it for dinner," says Nino, flopping back over the cushion on the floor and covering his eyes with his hand.

"Don't you mean breakfast?" Aiba reminds him.

"Aiba, we're not even going to be asleep by breakfast time," says Nino, "and we're definitely not going to be hungry for lunch."

"I will," says Leader.

"Leader will!" Aiba agrees. "But you're probably right, I won't. But still, I wonder if we should call it dinner if we don't eat breakfast and lunch first?"

"Will it even fit in the fridge?" says Leader suddenly. "We can't leave it out. It'll get stale."

"Or Sho will fall asleep in it."

"Hey! - "

The sounds of argument and clinking bottles of alcohol fade into the background for Aiba as he feels a hand (Jun's hand, obviously, because Jun is next to him, and anyway, who else's hand could it be? No one's. And no one touches him like Jun) sliding up his thigh. The hand stops at the crease of his leg, resting on the inner edge, a couple of fingers against the inseam of Aiba's jeans, and more importantly, brushing his dick through the fabric. Under the edge of the table, but still. Even if Aiba was dating (well, _dating~_) someone else than Jun, he can't imagine anyone else doing _that_.

They're not exactly _alone_ even if it's only Arashi and they're supposed to be at a _dinner_ party.

Aiba should make him stop. But the thing is, Jun's not doing anything. He's just resting his hand there, like Aiba's dick is no more significant than his knee, or - or - his elbow, or - the back of his neck, all places Jun casually touches in public, no more and no less often than before that afternoon when Jun shoved him up against a bookshelf and kissed him.

And he _continues_ doing nothing. It's driving Aiba _crazy_, in the best of all possible senses.

It takes what seems like hours before he thinks of something to do about it, and blurts, "Present!"

"Oh, maybe you should open them," says Sho. Ohno, who is halfway down a bottle of sake, doesn't appear to notice the suggestion.

"I have to - I forgot to wrap Leader's present!" Aiba lies unashamedly. "Jun! Help!"

"You need help?" says Jun, sipping his beer like it was a glass of champagne, and looking amused, his mouth smiling and his eyes narrow and sparkling with humor and alcohol, like Aiba is a child who's tripped over his own feet in front of him.

"Yeeees," says Aiba. "You're so good at wrapping packages! Come on!"

"I'd better not leave you alone with a roll of tape, I suppose," says Jun, and obediently follows Aiba and the bag containing the long-ago wrapped present back to Ohno's bedroom - where Aiba drags him around the corner of the wardrobe by the hand right away.

"Masaki," Jun whispers, half laughing, "shh -!"

"You shush," Aiba hisses back, and tugs apart the top two buttons of Matsujun's shirt. His neck is clean, with fresh sweat and cologne rising up from the soft skin to Aiba's nose. He buries his mouth there, sucking up the salty taste, and Jun makes a muffled choking noise trying not to moan.

"Ah, finally," Jun murmurs, without any more complaining at all, and slides smoothly back onto his elbows, making Aiba fall down on top of him and spreading his legs apart to fit Aiba in between. "Got to hurry," he adds, and kisses Aiba's ear.

"Hurry then," says Aiba, squirming to get a knee under him for leverage, and rocks his hips against Jun's. He can feel Jun's cock hard against his hip.

Jun smiles lazily. "Okay." He unzips Aiba's pants, and sticks his hand inside. Aiba kisses him.

[§ § §]

3.

Aiba's apartment is a mess. In theory, Jun hates to sleep there. He's done it, however, increasingly often recently. Today will be the second time this week.

It's after midnight when he gets there, but he doesn't have to be anywhere until 9 in the morning tomorrow, so even though Aiba has an early call, it seemed worth it. It's very hard to restrict yourself to sex in broom closets or even to half-hour lunch breaks if you have even the slightest opportunity to have it in a _bed_, with enough time to actually sleep and shower afterwards. Jun hates not being able to shower after sex (he's getting accustomed to it). Sometimes, when he has the time, he likes to change to a completely different outfit, afterward. He doesn't like to put back on the clothes that he was horny and frustrated in; he wants new, sexually sated clothes. Sometimes he re-paints his fingernails, too.

So Jun hates sleeping in Aiba's apartment. There are posters of kittens everywhere which he secretly loves, a handful of dishes in the sink and even on the table which he not-so-secretly hates, and a pile of video games all over the living room floor which would _really_ get in the way if they wanted to have sex in there.

It's so late, though, that Aiba's already in the bedroom, the lights dim, and Jun turns them off as he goes past - kitchenette, entryway, living room. The bed contains a few stack of papers, and Aiba in the middle of it with a laptop, and his glasses on.

Jun stops in the doorway, just watching for a minute, and Aiba keeps typing, distracted, and says, looking up for half a word, "Uh - welcome back! Jun-chan! Did you -" and then looks down and starts typing furiously again. "Almost done," he adds, absently.

His hair's growing out, the black roots showing under the current brown, which is long and shaggy enough for Jun to bury both his hands in and hold on, to make fists in even. Right now it's falling all in a slightly-disordered halo around Aiba's golden face, lit in the glow of a small lamp so it glows red-orange on one side. The light glints off the metal frame of the glasses, makes a line down Aiba's neck, bare over a wide-necked brown t-shirt with a metallic gold jungle print going up over his right shoulder. His collarbones are peeping out of the top.

There's a silver ring lying on the table next to the bed, along with two dogeared scripts; it's a ring Jun gave him secretly on his birthday, not at the party, but handed over casually, unwrapped, slipped out of his pocket. He didn't make a big deal of it on purpose, and Aiba didn't seem to notice; in fact, Jun isn't sure if Aiba knew it was a birthday gift at all. He just beamed and slid it onto his pinky finger, where Jun had already known (he checked) that it would fit, and said that it was really cool, exactly like Jun's excellent taste, and he loved it. He wears the ring infrequently now, not so much more than any other jewelry he owns; it's always on the bedside table in between, when Jun is here, and never on the dresser in the box of other jewelry.

Aiba is still typing. "If you don't have room for me I can find somewhere else to sleep," says Jun, raising his eyebrows.

Aiba jumps a little, and slams the laptop closed quickly. "No, sorry, I just wanted to try and get this finished - " the duvet bumps up and ripples as Aiba wriggles to the edge of the bed and bounces out onto the floor, a pair of sweatpants clinging to his hips. "Are you - do you want something to drink? I have this really good new flavored milk tea - it's awesome, you have to try it sometime -"

"Masaki," says Jun impatiently, "are you _trying_ to talk me out of coming to bed? I didn't come here to drink _tea_. I can't go in your kitchen without wanting to clean it."

"Sorry," says Aiba, looking sheepish. He bites his lip, then seems to have an idea: "Do you want to shower?"

Jun folds his arms over his chest. "_No_, I don't want a shower."

"Well, you can have one in the morning," Aiba offers, tilting his head. Jun can't read Aiba's eyes sometimes, even though Aiba is one of the most open, innocent people he knows; right now he has no idea if Aiba is nervous, like he thought before, or angry, or upset about something entirely different, or just distracted.

He doesn't want to waste time. "It's already midnight," says Jun, shrugging out of his cardigan, and starting to pull off his shirt.

"Yes, so I'm sorry," says Aiba, "but I can't allow you to clean the kitchen. You just don't have enough time for it, Matsujun. You probably don't know this, but I have become your personal scheduler -"

"Oh, you have, have you? My manager might be surprised to hear it."

"-_Secretly_," Aiba continues, reproachfully. "And I can tell you that there are no openings in the Aiba's House section for kitchen cleaning. You are full-booked already with sex, especially rimming, riding on my cock, and cuddling!"

Jun stops unbuckling his watch to look up at Aiba, who is grinning at him brightly. "Cuddling isn't sex! You cuddled with Nino for fifteen minutes yesterday."

Aiba just laughs and wiggles his eyebrows. "You agreed to my itinerary!"

"Why do you decide when it's my turn to ride your cock?" says Jun.

Aiba dives forward, apparently having run out of patience, and yanks Jun's belt out of his pants with two sharp tugs. They've gotten fast at undressing each other in the past few months. "I don't care, really," he admits, looking up from under his bangs, dark-eyed, and licking his lips. "I just thought it would fit in nicely after I'm done with the rimming. It goes together that way, and if I spend all that time licking your ass and then _you_ fuck _me_ it's almost a waste. Well, not a waste, you're very good at it, but I thought it would flow naturally. And I've been thinking about your ass, Jun-chan. _All day._"

By the time Jun and Aiba finish getting Jun out of his pants, his cock is so hard it hurts. He lies down on his face and spreads his legs without another word, and Aiba crawls up between them, murmuring, "Oh, good, Jun - mmmh, you're so - ah -" and lots of other stupid things that Jun can't make himself pay attention to after the first hot, wet caress of Aiba's tongue.

Much, much later, when Jun has been so well-fucked that he's probably going to be walking funny in the morning, and Aiba is snoring gently with only the tops of his hair peeking out of the covers, Jun cracks the blinds open and stares up at the ceiling turning pale gray with moonlight. The bed is so soft, so warm, and Aiba's hand is on his hip - just the hand, but it feels almost burning hot, and Jun moves surreptitiously, carefully closer to it, making sure not to wake Aiba.

He falls asleep like that easily, thinking - not for the first time, and this is what worries him - that he really likes sleeping like this. It's why he's come over after midnight two days this week, when he could have pushed his schedule the other direction and met Aiba in the morning, or the afternoon. Jun is starting to hate sleeping alone.


End file.
